there was a short sweet wait before the worry.
why do i miss you when youre next to me?

i try to fight
you take me back:
warm plaster walls and obtrusive matter. a mirror made from bolts and metal sheets, the taste of ensure. bathroom wall etchings, comfortable silence and silence that isn't so safe. hiding your hurt in the hallway and bleeding it out after bedtime.

i deflate-
i combust.
why do you make me feel like this?
i try speaking to you, but im just pulling the string
on your back
that connects
to the voicebox,
you say sorry in the way you always do.
i memorized your automated response.
i'm thinking i can't do this anymore.

tears slip
silently.
no one sees.
slowly, the numbness
consumes me
and my world turn
from technicolor
to muted greys

lately i've been mourning something.
i think i miss loving myself.
i grieve for the girl of sunlight and pride.
she is not here anymore,
what has taken her place feels like
the fog of no man's land.

the exact middle, she claims
i'm neutral, she says
i don't pick sides, she proclaims

no, no
the exact middle is never
the exact middle
of nothing

we are always in the middle
of something

when i hear her say,
"you know i've never picked sides,"
what i really hear is:
"i don't care enough to care"
"my comfortability, my ignorance, is worth more than someone else's struggles"
"my silence is more important than another's life"

what i hear is you giving up, giving in,
because it's not your problem, right?

no, no
the exact middle
is never
a "neutral" place to be

drowning in ego,
she tells them lies,
she spreads the evil,
or so she tries

she'd **** for beauty,
and hurt for fame,
she'll make you pity
what she'll never shame

I close my eyes

so clearly I see

what is in sight

is not reality